Aalia Comes to Town

As I opened the outer security gate to my apartment building, I faintly heard a phone ringing somewhere inside. This story took place long before we all had cell phones. Everybody's phone had the exact same ring. Two more rings while I checked my mailbox, then it stopped. Three advertising circulars and my gas bill was all I found. I'd been hoping for a letter from an old high school friend back East, but not today. I tucked the mail into my grocery bag next to the strawberries and mushrooms.

As I started up the staircase toward my apartment, the ringing began again. I took the stairs two at a time, fished out my keys and opened my door.

"Ringgggg......Ringgggg......Ri," it stopped as I lifted the receiver.

"Yeah, this is Richard."

"Dude," a familiar voice said, just a little too loud. It was Eric, a friend from work.

"What?"

"You gotta do me a favor, please, please, please."

"I gotta pick up my cousin at the bus station and my car battery has crapped out."

"Uh, okay. No plans for this evening anyway. When?"

"Like right now Dude, her bus will be arriving in an hour."

"Her?"

"Yeah, Aalia, one of my mom's brother's kids. I told her I'd pick her up. I'll tell you all about it when you get here."

"I'll throw the groceries in the fridge and I'm on my way."

Eric was waiting at the curb outside his place and got in quickly. "Jeez, man, thanks- you're saving my ass on this."

"So, you've got a female cousin. Spill."

"Okay, so she's about my age and she's coming in from Phoenix. Haven't seen her for years. I've got a picture of her, here," he said while struggling to get a photo out of an envelope.

"Wow, she's cute. She looks kinda like your mom."

"Dude, no mother jokes."

"No, I'm not into your mom, I'm just saying the eyes and mouth are pretty similar."

"I guess," he said staring at the photo.

We got onto the 101 freeway at Laurel Canyon and headed east toward downtown.

I remember it was a Wednesday (I'll explain later) and traffic was light going into town. It was stop and go in the opposite lanes. This drive could take anywhere from about 25 minutes to over 2 hours depending on the time of day.

"Why is she coming to LA?"

"Not sure, but I guess she's moving here. She's got a place already rented near Coldwater Canyon and Riverside. The moving truck is arriving Friday morning. Apparently, she doesn't have a lot of stuff and I volunteered to lend a hand. I guess it's on the second floor. She's staying at my place for a couple of nights 'til then."

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

"I thought that would be your first question, but I doubt she'd be moving 500 miles away from a boyfriend, and there's a rumor that she's into women."

"Wha? Really?" I stammered. "I met a lesbian once. She almost looked like a guy. Short hair, boots, and a tattoo on her arm. Smoked Camels. She seemed nice enough, but Aalia doesn't look anything like her." There, of course, had been gay people forever. It just wasn't the type of thing that people talked about then, at least not the people I knew.

"Where have you been, dude? Some lesbians like to be pretty, in a traditional "girly" way. They're called fems, and some like to put on more masculine traits. They're called dykes. I guess there's an infinite range in between."

"Seems like a waste, somehow. Someone as pretty as Aalia? Guys don't even get a chance?"

"You're not suffering too badly with the rest of them. Promise you won't hit on her and embarrass me?"

"Yeah, but... Ok, I guess."

We were mostly quiet the rest of the trip, listening to the radio. Thoughts of two women having sex were swirling around in my brain. I knew about cunnilingus; in fact, I had been told I was quite good at it. My brain tended to think about sex most of the time. This was just different.

Someone was pulling out of the primo parking spot at the downtown bus station, so we grabbed it. We were a few minutes late, so we hustled in. It was a very busy place just now. "Let me see that picture again."

I took one end of the waiting area, and he took the other. I saw her first, looking around, maroon overnight bag at her feet. She looked tired and a little rumpled, but, my god, she was beautiful. Her face was the picture of serenity like she didn't have a care in the world.

Oh yeah, and she was tall. Probably 6'2", about the same as I.

"Uh, Aalia?" I asked.

"What?"

"You're Aalia, from Phoenix."

She tilted her head and furrowed her brow at me as if to say, 'Who the hell are you?'

"I'm sorry, I'm with Eric- he's over there looking for you. My name is Richard and I'll be your chauffeur this evening.

Her face grew placid again. "Very nice to meet you, Richard, and thanks."

She raised her eyebrows in greeting and smiled as Eric came bounding over. She held out her arms and they exchanged a quick hug- one of those hugs where the woman takes care not to press her breasts against the other person. "Eric, you've grown up. I haven't seen you since the summer of '70 when we came out on vacation, what, 12 years?"

'What a smile', I thought as they began chattering about the trip and how glad she was to be off the bus. Short dirty blond hair, short but manicured nails and no makeup. I had to look twice because her skin was tanned and flawless, except for a small pink zit down by her chin.

I reached down and picked up her case, "Shall we?"

On the ride to Eric's, she filled us in on the doings of the family. She also told us she was a photographer and a singer. She'd done some recording work as a backup singer, but thought she had the chops to record her own music. LA is the place to be- Phoenix, not so much. She was also looking forward to going to the beach. She hadn't been to the ocean since she was 13.

I reached over to my glove box and pulled out the box of strawberries I'd brought from home. I half turned around to offer them to her sitting in the back seat. She took one and, in the rear-view mirror, I saw her take a bite. She closed her eyes and licked her lips in a curiously sensual way. "Mmmmm, delicious. Thank you."

We stopped at an auto parts store to get a battery for his car. When Eric got out, we chatted about her photography. She got out a small album full of 4x6 prints. Most were in black & white. She said she mostly takes pictures of people in urban environments. The architectural compositions in here photos were marvelous. The people were from all walks of life from pan handlers to executives. I complimented her eye.

Pulling up in front of Eric's, I said "Could you use another strong back on Friday?"

"No, I couldn't, no, but, what the hell- sure. It'll get done that much faster. I'll provide the beer and sandwiches."

As they got out of the car, she looked at me, holding direct eye contact just a little longer than most people. Not awkward, just noticeable. "Thank you for everything. I'll see you Friday. They say the truck should be there by 9."

The rest of the evening was spent fantasizing about her kissing and touching another woman. Of course, I imagined myself being in the room, watching them. I was imagining all sorts of ways women might "do it". I had to take care of some important business before I went to bed so I'd be able to sleep.

Friday morning breakfast consisted of two slices of bacon, previously cooked, two fried eggs and two toaster waffles, with coffee.

I arrived a little early and they were waiting for the truck. "Good morning." She offered me another cup of coffee.

"Didn't know how you took it, so I brought creamer and sugar on the side with those little wooden stir sticks.

"One sugar usually. Thanks."

Aalia was thin but muscular. She wore a pair of black ASU athletic shorts and a black sports bra covered by a bright pink sleeveless t-shirt top, She looked like she could be a swimmer or a volleyball player. "Thanks for coming, the truck is supposed to be here any minute."

We went upstairs to see. It was a square room above a warehouse storing plumbing parts. About 25 feet square with high ceilings and lots of windows. The kitchen was along the wall where the stairs came up and the bathroom was across the way. There was a small outdoor porch next to the bathroom. It was in a quiet neighborhood, but the traffic noise from the freeway was pretty loud outside. Aalia seemed pleased.

The truck didn't arrive until a little after noon. We ate the sandwiches, and each had a beer while waiting.

She really didn't have that much stuff, and we were done by about 3. We set up her bed, "Right in the middle of the room," she said. She also had a chest of drawers, two chairs and a small table, "I'll get the rest at garage sales."

As I was getting ready to go, Aalia said, "To thank you guys, I'd like to take you out tomorrow night. I hope you can make it. There's this club in Hollywood and I'm going with a couple of friends. I'd really like it if you were there. I'm sure you'll like it. Lots of dancing with lots of beautiful women."

I thought, 'A couple of friends, eh? Wonder what kind of friends these are?' The rest sounded great, and I was, naturally, intrigued. "What time?"

"The party doesn't really get going until about 9. The only way for guys to get in is by being invited. I'll put you on the list. Wear something kinda nice. Here's the address," she said as she handed me a card with just 6220 Sunset Blvd. on it. "It's called 'Passionfruit', but there's no sign outside. Find it by the address.

I looked at Eric. He shrugged, "I'm in."

"Thanks for all your hard work today, guys, I owe you dinner or something."

Eric asked, "You gonna be okay here by yourself without a car?"

"I gotta make the bed, put some dishes away and get some sleep. There's that market just down the block. I'll be fine. I'll start looking for a car next week. They're hooking up my phone tomorrow morning. I'll call you if I need anything, I promise. See you then."

We saw the numbers 6220 in large white letters over the big red door of a two-story brick building, painted dark gray. A single downlight illuminated the address and the conspicuously red door. We found it easy enough by consulting my copy of the Thomas Guide. Several people were standing out front. We drove around and finally found parking 4 blocks away in a private pay lot. Cost me $12. That was a lot back then.

"Eric, you look better than I've ever seen you. Nice shoes dude."

Thank you, my man, you clean up nice too." I was wearing brand new Levi's 501's, a light-yellow dress shirt, my camel hair jacket and a pair of brown penny loafers. My shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair was clean and pulled into a ponytail. I did look good.

As we approached the door, two burly fellows, obviously security, locked eyes on us. The big one smiled and asked, "Can I help you sir?" in a Monty Python cockney accent. It was the last thing we expected, and it was all I could do not to laugh. All things considered, I didn't think laughing was my best course.

"Uh, yeah, we got invited to spend the evening dancing and apparently drinking with some beautiful women."

The smaller one picked up a clipboard and asked, "Names?", in a similar accent. I smiled broadly but managed not to laugh.

"Eric Donnoly and Richard Burns."

After a beat, he said, "You're good to go guys. I gotta warn you though, be careful in there. If we get a complaint, we'll run you out right quick."

"I get it, thanks for the advice," Eric said as the big one opened the door for us.

"Did you see that list, it only had about 5 names on it. We'll have them all to ourselves."

Inside the small antechamber, the music was louder than it had been outside. I had my wallet out to pay our door charge, but the young woman told us they had already been paid. She handed us two drinks tickets each and pointed toward the heavy velvet curtained door.

I parted the curtain and slowly went through, Eric at my heels. It was a big room. The light was dim, but you could still make out individual faces. The music, Sade's Sweetest Taboo, was moderately loud, but you could still hear nearby conversations. About sixty women half-filled the dance floor. Around the perimeter were tables with slightly brighter lights. The outer walls were covered with draperies.

We looked around, but no one paid us much attention. Most of the women were talking, some were kissing, and there were frequent spikes of laughter from one group.

Eric tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the laughing group. "There she is."

He took the lead and slowly made his way around the dance floor toward what I assumed would be "our party". Halfway there, we stopped at the bar to cash in a couple of drinks tickets. I ordered a gin & tonic because I always drink them slower than other drinks.

While we were waiting, one of Aalia's friends pointed at us. Aalia shifted her gaze, smiled, said something we couldn't hear, and waved us over. All the women in the local group were looking at us, smiling.

"Hey," I said in an uninspiring opening.

"Hey yourself, I'm glad you made it," she said, holding up her half-full Cosmo as a toast. We clinked glasses to complete the ritual.

"This is an amazing sight," I said looking around, "I'm still gathering my thoughts."

Getting closer to us, she said, "Great, isn't it. The men that are in here have been chosen from the best of the best. Don't disappoint me and start hitting on everyone. Complaints are taken very seriously around here."

"The bouncer out front warned us already. So, we can talk, dance, and drink but no touching."

"Unless you're specifically invited to touch."

"Girls, this is Richard and Eric. Guys, this is Erica, Ann, Becky, Jo, and Mari. I know Ann and Jo from Phoenix. Oh, and this is Kristy," she said about a dark-haired woman approaching us fast. She was wearing a very tight, low-cut grey dress with large white buttons all down the front.

"Hi girls," she said as she started unbuttoning her dress from the top, "I've got something to show you."

She noticed Eric and I but didn't slow down the unbuttoning. When she got to her waist, she pulled her dress free from her breasts and proudly displayed them. "What do you think?"

They were amazing. A solid C-cup size with no noticeable sag with small brown areolae and nipples. I glanced up at Aalia and she was watching me. "The bruising was pretty bad, but they're finally healed up. Go ahead and touch- they're so perfect."

One by one the local group extended their hands, squeezing and pinching.

Ann leaned over to me and said, "Kris had them done about a month ago. Poor thing was as flat as a pancake before the operation and it really bothered her."

When each girl had had a turn, she turned her torso to Eric, who raised his eyebrows in question. "Go ahead," she said, including me in her glance.

Not wanting to make a fuss, we took turns groping her breasts and acknowledging their beauty.

Without rebuttoning, Kris turned toward a small group near us and began her show-and-tell all over again.

Ann was next to me, so I leaned over and whispered, "I'm already glad I decided to be here tonight."

Leaning in toward my ear she confided, "They're going to change her life alright; I just hope it's for the better."

I offered, "I'm gonna be honest here, I've dated a couple of very small breasted women and found them entertaining and very good in bed. My theory is that they try harder."

"I've had the same experience, and I think you're right," Ann giggled, "in fact, Kris and I were an item for a short time."

"The music here is great, and I want to dance, but going out there by myself feels weird. Join me?"

She took my hand and led me out. I glanced at Aalia, and she was smiling again.

There were a couple of fast songs where we got to loosen up a bit, followed by Cyndi Lauper's 'Time after Time'. She looked at me, then came in for what amounted to a loose hug. We danced slowly pressing our bodies together. It was very nice.

"Why did you come tonight?"

"I was invited."

She raised her eyebrows at me.

"Okay, I was fascinated by the concept of a lesbian club. I never imagined such a place existed. Are you a... a lesbian."

"It's okay, you can say the word. It's just a word, and no, I'm definitely bi. Bisexual is just a word, and you can say it anytime you want."

"You're attracted to both women and men."

"I'm a greedy little motherfucker, when I see something I want, I go after it. Yeh, motherfucker is just a word too."

"There's a whole room full of beautiful women, why are you dancing with me?"

"First, because you asked so nicely, and second because I'm deciding what I want," she said, pressed her body to mine a little tighter. After Cyndi wrapped it up, she took my hand and led us back to the group.

Aalia wasn't there so I scanned the room. She was dancing with two women. Actually, it was hard to determine who was dancing with whom as the whole dance floor was just a sea of moving bodies. It was a fast song so there was a lot of hair bouncing around.

The odor in the room was different than in a "normal" night club. No male sweat pheromones, well, very little. I took a sip of my drink and spied Eric dancing with what looked like 4 women, one was, by Eric's description the other day, a dyke. She paid more attention to one of the other women and not so much to Eric. He looked like he was having a good time though.

The dark-haired Kris was slowly walking over to me. We made eye contact and she spoke, "Hi."

"Hi, thanks for including me in the groping session. Your breasts are very, very nice."

She beamed at me. She pulled the top of her dress out and looked down at them. "Cost me a fucking fortune, but..." Looking up, making eye contact, she asked "Would you have sex with me?"

"Uh, uh," pause, "Is that a theoretical or a practical question?"

"Let's start with the first. I'm sorry to put you on the spot like this."

"No, it's okay. How do I say this... Yeah, you're a beautiful woman, my little pecker loves making love to beautiful women." She smiled, but she was lost in thought.

Before she could respond, I added, "So you're not a lesbian either? While we were dancing, Ann told me she's bi,

"As much as I love being with women, I seem to need a man sometimes. Problem is that most men are self-righteous assholes. Slam, bam, thank you ma'am, thanks but I gotta go."

"Yeah, there are a lot of guys out there like that. My theory is that it's a lack of confidence. It's easy to hook up for a one-off of hot sex, but quite another to wake up in the morning with them. Then you actually have to start talking."

"Women are that way too, a lot of the time."

"I'm sure, we're all just human."

"Aalia told me you were a nice guy."

"Only known her 3 days now."

"Would you have sex with me?"

I looked at Kris and smiled. It had taken a lot to ask that question again. This time we were both sure it meant in a practical sense. "I'm kinda here with Aalia and her group."

"Shit, I'm part of Aalia's group," she said, taking my hand and leading me toward the bar. The hall leading to the restroom was right next to it.

The restroom, there was only one, was enormous. Multiple smaller rooms, 6 on each side, with burnt orange velvet curtains lined the walls. Sinks with big mirrors were in a row down the middle of the room. I assumed the toilets were inside the rooms.

Three women waited in line. Two of them smiled broadly at me. Somewhere I could hear the sound of kissing, muted, but audible. I whispered, "In here?" She nodded.

Apparently, the etiquette is to leave the curtain partly open when you leave. The line got shorter and, before I knew it, we pulled a curtain closed behind us. The very nice room was at least 8 feet on a side with a toilet, bidet, mirror, and a bench.

Kris begins unbuttoning her dress, revealing her new breasts. She reaches out for my belt, "Wait, hold on a second," I say. She stops, confused. "We haven't even been introduced."